After about fifteen minutes Mab pointed ahead. "Yonder's where the entrance is!"We were approaching what my dad would have called a neglected wood. You see, most woods are coppiced every few years or so, which means that some of the saplings are hacked down and taken for firewood. This also helps the wood by creating light and space for the remaining trees to develop so that both humans and trees benefit. But here, among the mature trees of this wood -oak, yew, and ash-was a dense, tangled thicket of saplings. The area hadn't been touched for many a long year, and it made me wonder why.Then, as we reached the edge, I suddenly glimpsed tombstones among the undergrowth and realized that the trees and vegetation concealed an abandoned graveyard.At first glance it looked impenetrable, but a narrow path led into the thicket, and Mab plunged in without a backward glance. That surprised me, because I knew she couldn't set foot on holy ground. It must have been deconsecrated, probably by a bishop, and was no longer a holy place.I followed Mab, with Alice close at my heels, and within moments I glimpsed some sort of ruin to our left, covered with moss and lichen. Only two walls were standing, and the tallest section came no higher than my shoulder."What's that?" I asked."All that's left of the old church," Mab called back over her shoulder. "Most of the graves were dug up and the bones taken elsewhere and reburied. The ones they could find, anyway."Right at the heart of the thicket we reached a clearing, which was scattered with tombstones. Some had fallen flat, others leaned at precarious angles, and there were holes in the ground where the coffins had been dug up and removed. They hadn't bothered to fill in the graves again, and now they were hollows filled with weeds and nettles. And there, among the tombstones, was a small stone building. A young sycamore tree had grown right through the roof, splitting the stones, its branches forming a leafy canopy. The walls were covered with ivy and the building had no windows, just a rotting wooden door."What's that?" I asked. It was far too small to be a chapel."It's a sepulc -" began Alice."He asked me," interrupted Mab. "It's a sepulchre, Tom. A grave house above ground, once built for a family with more money than sense. Six shelves, it has, and each one is still a resting place for dead bones…"

"The bones are still there?" I asked, not sure which girl to look at. "Why didn't they move them with the rest?"The family didn't want their dead disturbed," Mab said, walking toward the door of the sepulchre. "But they've been disturbed already and will be again."She gripped the handle and slowly eased open the door. It was already dark in the shade of the sycamore, but beyond that door was absolute blackness. I didn't have a candle stub and tinderbox with me, but Mab reached into the left pocket of her gown and pulled out a candle of her own. It was made from black wax, and as I watched, the wick suddenly sprouted a flame."Be able to see what we're doing now," she said, smiling wickedly.Holding the candle aloft, Mab led the way into the sepulchre, the flame illuminating the slabs of stone-the shelves that held the remains of the dead. I saw what Mab meant by saying the dead had been disturbed. Some of the bones had been dislodged from the shelves and were scattered on the floor.Once inside, she stepped back and closed the door behind us, the flame flickering in the draft so that the eye sockets of the nearest skull were animated by shadows, the dead bones seeming to twitch with unnatural life.No sooner was the door closed than I experienced a sudden chill and heard a faint groan from the far corner of the sepulchre. Was it a ghost or a ghast?

"Nothing to worry about there," Mab said, walking toward that ominous sound. "It's only Dead Maggie, and she's not going anywhere now." The dead witch was in the corner, leaning back against the damp wall. Rusty metal rings clamped her ankles, each connected by a chain to another ring bolted into the stone flags. The metal was iron, so no wonder she was suffering. Maggie was trapped, all right."Is that a Deane I smell?" she whimpered, her voice quivering with pain."Sorry to see you in such a state, Maggie," Alice said, approaching her. "It's me, Alice Deane -"Oh! Help me, child!" Maggie begged. "My mouth be drier than my bones be sore. I can't abide these shackles. Free me from this torment!"Can't help you, Maggie," Alice replied, stepping even closer. "Wish I could, but there's a Mouldheel here. Has a lock of my hair, she has, so I can't do nothing."Then come closer, child," Maggie croaked.Obediently Alice bent close, and the dead witch whispered something into her ear.

"No whispering! No secrets here! Keep clear o' Maggie," Mab warned. Immediately Alice moved away, but I knew her well enough to read a subtle change in her expression: Maggie had whispered something of importance; something that might just help us against Mab."Right!" Mab continued. "Let's get on with it. Follow me. It's a tight squeeze…"She knelt down and crawled across the lowest bone shelf to her left, disturbing the skeleton that lay upon it. Within moments all I could see were her bare feet before they disappeared from view like the rest of her. She'd taken the candle, and the inside of the sepulchre was plunged into darkness.So, gripping my staff, I crawled onto the cold stone slab, following her into the narrow space between it and the shelf above, feeling the bones under my body as I dragged myself across. Beyond the shelf, the fingers of my right hand clutched soft earth and, seeing a flicker of light ahead, I pulled myself headfirst into a shallow tunnel where Mab was waiting. She was on all fours; the roof was too low for her to stand. Alice had already told me that the only way my trunks would ever leave Malkin Tower was through the big iron-studded wooden door, the same way they'd gotten inside, and one glimpse at that confined space confirmed this. So what did Mab hope to achieve? Even if she did reach the trunks, it would be impossible to bring them out this way.I faced the same problem, but at least I might be able to rescue my family. And as long as I didn't give away the keys, no witch would be able to open the trunks.

Once Alice had joined us in the tunnel, Mab wasted no time and crawled away on her hands and knees while we followed as best we could. I'd come across a few tunnels since becoming the Spook's apprentice, but never one so tight and claustrophobic as this. It had no supports at all, and I had to force myself not to think about the great weight of earth above us. If the tunnel collapsed, we'd be trapped down here in the darkness. We might be crushed quickly; we might suffer a slow, terrifying death by suffocation. I lost all track of time. We seemed to be crawling along for an eternity, but at last we emerged into an earthen chamber large enough for us to stand up. For a moment I thought we were directly underneath the tower, but then I saw another tunnel straight ahead. Unlike the one we'd just crawled through, this was big enough to walk upright in and had stout wooden props supporting the roof."Well," Mab said, "this is as far as I've been. Don't smell good, this tunnel."So saying, she leaned in and sniffed loudly three times. I wondered how good she was at it. The Spook had once told me that the ability varied from witch to witch.

After one quick sniff she turned away and gave a shudder of horror. "Something wet and dead down there," she said. "Don't fancy that tunnel at all!"Don't be soft, girl!" Alice sneered. "Let me sniff the tunnel out, too. Two noses are better than one, ain't that so?"Right-but be quick about it," Mab agreed, eyeing the tunnel nervously.Alice wasted no time. One quick sniff, and she smiled. "Nothing much to worry about down there. Wet and dead we can handle. Tom's got his rowan staff. Should be enough to keep it at bay. So off you go, Mab. You lead the way! That's if you ain't too scared. Thought you Mouldheels were supposed to be made of sterner stuff!" For a moment Mab glared at Alice and curled her lip, but then she led the way into the tunnel. I gripped my rowan staff tightly. Something told me that I -would need it. Chapter XIVTHE WIGHT IF the guardian of the tunnel was wet and dead, then it was probably a be waterwight and there' in the tunnel. I'd read about wights in the Spook's bestiary: they were rare in the County but very dangerous. They were created by witches, who bound the soul of a drowned sailor to his dead body by dark magic. The body didn't decay. Instead it became bloated and tremendously strong. They were usually blind, their eyes eaten by fishes, but had acute hearing and could locate a victim on dry land while still submerged.As I was about to follow Mab, Alice gestured with her hand, signaling that I should stay back and allow her to go first. I could tell that she was planning something, but I didn't know what. So I let her go ahead and just hoped she knew what she was doing.We seemed to be walking for ages, but at last we began to slow before coming to a halt.